Associate Evil
by Mitschu
Summary: The Resident Evil world is always a creepy place to visit, but what if you were trapped at your local Walmart? Even worse, what if you had to work there? Reviews greatly desired! Chapter 5 up, though it is a bit short.
1. First Encounter

**(EDIT: Added author's note, fixed a few typos, mainly formatting issues with FF)**

**AN: Ironically, I have a very good grasp of the English language, but I'm not marvelous at story telling. Especially when it first starts out. It'll begin to flow naturally, though, I promise.**

**Everything you see is uneditted, straight from my mind onto Wordpad (for some reason, I can't stand MS Word.) Therefore, there probably will be a few typos. If you point them out to me, I'll gratefully correct them.**

**I do, in fact, work at Wal-Mart (silly formatting doesn't let me include the hyphen for some reason) so I know the layout of the store. I'll be assuming, for the sake of ease, that you know the store fairly well too, so I don't have to consume your time drawing out a map. I may be adding features that don't exist in reality - bullet proof glass, sectional panels that divide the store, removing emergency exits, stuff like that. Just to make the Wally World a little safer to live in, at first.**

**My name is actually Joseph, that much is true, but any other characters will be figments of my imagination. The character "Joseph" in the story is me, so you may need to know some stuff about me. I'm 20, I smoke, I'm male, approx. 5'10" and 160 lbs. I'm a likable person, but a bit shy and not very outspoken. However, as the only person with a clear head and a (virtual) map of the store, I'm elected leader. Whether or not this works out to everyone's advantage...**

**This story will be less about slaying zombies nonstop, and more about teamwork and leadership. A team of people trapped in a supercenter festering with the undead, how will they survive? Will they find out what happened in the outside world?**

**Make no mistake, several characters will die. Random, pointless deaths that could have been averted. Even the main character, me, might die if something goes wrong. I'm just a character in this story, not some super powerful God author. Just like in real life. I'm a sadistic writer... I'll try my best to make you fall in love with a character, to want him or her to live, to thrive, to survive... and then... who knows? They might open a broom closet no one bothered to check... fall off the roof... go crazy...**

**So, let's end this author's note, and begin the story. Without any further ado, I present to you the first chapter in...**

_**Associate Evil**_

"Why couldn't you have said you were sick?" Anna asked laconically. The man sitting next to her twitched, then raised his head slowly, blinking.

"Well, sorry, but they caught me off guard, calling me like that. Ring ring, can you come in to work immediately? I didn't know what else to say, I didn't really have any plans anyway..."

Anna sighed. "Don't you have caller ID on your phone?" The guy shook his head.

"Batteries ran out on the caller box. I didn't know who it was until I answered." He yawned, and stretched both hands above his head. "Jesus, I wish I didn't work nights."

"Well, good thing I was still awake, otherwise your ass would have been walking." Anna smirked at the thought. "Anyway, whats up with all this freaking traffic? It's -" she paused to glance at the dashboard, "- already ten fifteen. Christmas Eve or not, these idiots should be at home right now. Anyway, we're almost there."

"Ugh, don't remind me. Running off to work through Christmas Day, the family'll kill me." He chuckled. "Oh well, an excuse to get out of dealing with the blood relatives."

Anna looked over curiously. "You know, you never tell me anything about your family. What're they like?"

"Well, they're pretty much all as crazy as-"

Sudden horn. Squealing tires. Screams. A crash. Blackness.

---

The faint light flickered at the edge of his attention. He squinched his eyes tighter, hoping to block it out. No such luck. The flickering intensified, accompanied by a raw smell. Strong. Like gas. His head pounded. Wasn't he supposed to be in bed right now?

Joe opened his eyes slowly, grunting with exertion. The flickering, he saw, was a fire a short distance away. Good. He liked fires. Very festive decorations. He decided to close his eyes again. He didn't need to work today, after all.

Then it came back to him, and he jerked up in his seat. The seatbelt clenched against his chest, slamming him back into the seat.

"Anna, what the hell happened?" Joe asked, swiveling his head towards her seat. It was empty. His mind struggled with this. Did she abandon him? Then, piece by piece, it came together. Seat belt undone. Windshield shattered. Trail of blood on the hood.

"Anna?" he roared, fear flooding him. He struggled momentarily with his seatbelt, which seemed partial bent. Finally, the strap ripped, releasing him abruptly. He hit his head against the dashboard, and suddenly a white fist shot out and punched him solidly in the face.

"Ooomph." He groaned, reaching up to rub his forehead. "What the hell is wrong with this car, released the air bag _now_?" He reached over and fumbled with the locking mechanism on the door. A click, and he was free. He stepped out and headed towards the hood.

The trail of blood lead from the hood to the bottom of the car. He bent over to look under the car. And immediately jumped back up as a sharp pain arched up his back.

"Ow, fucking Jesus." He slowly bent back over, sweeping the underside of the car with a long glance. A drop of blood dripped onto his glasses, causing him to jump back again. But he had seen enough to confound him.

The blood ended in a large pool under the car, but no body was present. Maybe a medical team had already recovered her? He looked around the vehicle curiously, but saw nothing other than Anna's car and a small blazing truck - the source of the flickering he had seen earlier - a few meters away. He rubbed the blood off of his glasses while surveying the lot again. The store he worked at loomed in the background of this macabre scene, only a few blocks away.

Maybe she was fine, and checking on the passengers in the truck? He walked towards it slowly, unsure if it was going to explode or not. The road was strangely silent - no incoming or outgoing traffic, no insects chirping - and the lack of noise was adding to his discomfort. As if on cue, a piercing wail suddenly erupted from the truck.

"Anna!" Joe screamed, adrenaline flooding him. He ran, ignoring the blistering heat radiating from the truck, and jerked open the passenger side door.

The lady sitting in the driver's seat continued to scream, unaware of Joe's presence. He looked on in horror, watching as her face continued to drip onto the floor mat, blood and skin melting together into a puddle of gore. As her throat burnt open, the screaming died down to a shrill whistling. An eye popped, landing face up in the mush below her.

"Oh... God... the... fuck..." Joe lurched back away from the truck, turning towards the car, the only familiar thing in this awful situation. Get to base and you'll be safe. Get to base and you'll be safe. His vision blurred, his head drooped. The concrete looked inviting. Comfortable. Safe. He didn't even feel the pain as he crashed into unconsciousness.

---

A sudden explosion, the feeling of cartwheeling. Slippery blood on polished metal beneath him. His eye cracked open, making out the faint blue hue of Anna's car, shaded purple from the red flames behind him. He pulled himself into a sitting position, sliding around over the hood. The truck had exploded. That made sense. Burning vehicles blew up. The passenger's side door popped open. Also made sense. Air pressure inside the vehicle. The woman, still ablaze and missing several limbs, began to crawl one handedly out of the truck. That didn't make much sense. Maybe he should just go back to sleep...

His hand shot up, balled up, punched his own face. _You aren't going to pass out again!_ He tumbled off of the hood, recoiling from the triple pain coursing through him. The punch hurt. The hot sunburnt feeling on his face hurt more. Hitting the gravel hurt the most. He jumped back up and looked towards the truck, certain he had hallucinated. The girl was surely dead.

For a quadripeligic, she had made good progress. Maybe he had passed out again. Groaning and flailing, she had almost cleared the short distance between the truck and car. His eyes locked upon her remaining eye, and what he saw there convinced him that he wasn't hallucinating. _Hunger. Prey. Hunt._ Her eye was full of what he had only seen once before, in the eyes of a timber wolf.

The childhood memory resurfaced... alone, lost in the woods, uncertain he was going to live. The creature had growled and jumped in front of him, its eyes full of the malevolence of a predator. And the woman's eye was flooded with the same. So he did what he had done then, to survive.

He ran.

Slowly, the store came closer. He refused to stop. Surely, the monster was behind him, was going to get him if he slowed down. He reached the door, risked turning around to check. She was a few feet behind him, standing on her stumps and sliding smoothly towards him.

"Let me in, God, let me in!" The interior was strangely dark and empty. He couldn't even see into the shopping area proper, a silvery wall blocked his view. He needed to get in. God damn it, the only thing between him and death was a sliding glass door. A sliding glass door! Sliding...

His hands fumbled towards the jam, his fingers seeking a grip on the sectional divide he knew must be there. He pushed with all his strength, but it wouldn't open. He could feel her hot breath on his neck. He wondered why it wasn't opening when he was pushing...

A sudden change in direction, he began to pull on the door and it slid open smoothly. He tumbled into the room, changed direction, slammed the doors back shut again, slid the latch into place, gracefully jerked the one key on his keyring he needed out and locked it shut. And began to breathe again.

The girl hadn't gotten anywhere near him. She was still just a few meters away from the car, unmoving and smoldering. He _had_ in fact hallucinated how close she was. But now, at least, he was safe.

A door clicked open behind him, and every hair stood up on his neck. He moved as in slow motion, towards the security post behind him. A woman with sharp blue eyes leveled a handgun at his head, began to depress the trigger. Aware that his narrow escape wasn't over yet, he yelled out the only thing he could think of in this situation.

"Don't shoot, I'm a human!"


	2. Second Encounter

**AN: Thanks a lot, C-CoC for your review. Your bio scares me a little bit, but at the same time you sound like a cool person. :P And Level 43, I have just one question for you. Since all zombies look pretty much the same, how do you check for credit card fraud? For that matter, won't they look a lot different than in their original photos?**

**I won't be saying this every chapter, so let it suffice for right now that I'm saying it in Chapter 2, before any (c) material is used. I don't own the Resident Evil franchise, I only own any original ideas that careen off of the series, and then only if I don't use copywritten material. Resident Evil is owned by Capcom.**

**Now that I've introduced a main character and (already) killed another one off, prepare yourselves for Chapter Two of...**

**AN v2: Hopefully I won't be making another version of the AN after this one, but some silliness occured on the side. My mum didn't break the computer - she accidentally unplugged the monitor - but from the way she called me up and told me that everything on the computer had 'died suddenly', I panicked. Which is a good thing, since otherwise you would just now be getting the chapter, instead of half of it almost a week earlier.**

**Furthermore, I was about to wrap up the second chapter, and I went up to hit the Save button so I could prepare to upload, when the power went out on my street. I really wish WordPad had an autosave feature, as is, I had to wait six hours (after the inspiration died, IOW) and try to remember what I had typed.**

**After all that excitement, I finally can seriously present to you... the second installment in the epic tale of...**

_**Associate Evil**_

'Don't shoot, I'm a human!" Joe cried out, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis. The girl's eyes widened. Slowly, the finger on the trigger relaxed. Her head bowed down for a second, then she turned it back towards Joe, a small smile on her lips.

"Sorry about that babe, I thought you were one of them!" She returned the gun to its holster, strapping it securely into place. "Jesus, you look like shit. What happened to you, anyway?"

Joe contemplated the quickest way to explain. "Car crashed, truck blew up, passed out on concrete, and got chased by a flaming dead girl. Unless that last part was a hallucination."

She smirked. "Actually, you passed out twice, and no, she was chasing you. I saw it from in there." She gestured to the security station. He looked shocked.

"If you saw me running around out there, why'd you almost shoot me?"

"Consider it a test, I wasn't going to let some panicky boy compromise the store's security." She then turned to face the glass doors, puzzled. "But how did you get the doors to lock?"

"I'm a manager here." He stated simply. She cast a curious glance at his shirt, which he followed. "Off the clock, I got called in at the last minute for a crisis." Her eyes widened. "No, not whatever is happening out there, I was told that too many people were calling in sick and I needed to cover for someone."

"Actually, now that I think about it, how did you get in here? Tonights Christmas Eve, the store is supposed to be closed down to customers."

She made a gesture towards the emergency exit. "Nobody bothered to lock it, so I came in that way." He made a sudden movement towards the door, which she interpretted. "Don't worry, I locked it behind me." He relaxed noticably.

"So, is this like in the movies? Zombies -" she stiffened at the word, "- amongst the living, kill or be killed?" She noticed with distaste that he actually seemed thrilled at the thought of what he was saying.

"Yes, as far as I can tell... I... barely escaped from my own house. Family reunion, uncle was feeling sickly, then he began screaming and running around biting everyone. I was in the kitchen, ran out to see what was happening... had to break his neck... then my husband stood up an began eating my mother... they never really got along... and I grabbed my gun and escaped through the front door. Everywhere I went, I heard the screaming... whatever this is, it started happening at almost the same time, everywhere." She looked him in the eyes. "That doesn't happen at random, whatever this is, it was planned."

He reached for her gun, backed away when she stiffened up again. "Why were you carrying a gun on you? Police or something?"

She shook her head. "I work security at the RC Diesel Warehouse. Gas prices shooting up everywhere, they decided to take a 'strong' approach against theft, and the rest of my crew and I were signed up for firearms training. Once we passed the basic course, we were assigned .38s and told to carry them around to get used to the weight."

He nodded. "So we've got a small defense against these... zombies. I gotta say, though, I'm suprised. Never actually expected this to happen so soon." She looked at him askance. "I'm one of those 'end of the world' believers. Technology leads to detruction, or so I believe. Still, a bit of a shock that I was right."

He looked closely at her, checked her out. She was petite, maybe 5'10 or so, with a firm build. Her hand wafted gently in the proximity of the handgun, and he had a suspicious feeling she could draw it in a blink. As for how good her aim was... his body was still tense from the way she had held it level, aimed center at his head.

"So, we've got two survivors. Both of us are armed - you with that gun, me with knowledge of this store - and, barring anything else, ready to set up camp for the night?" He looked thoughtfully towards the store. "There's a heavily locked down area by Electronics they use for their incoming gadgets, televisions, and ilk. We should probably head that way before any more undead show up."

She shook her head gently, getting his attention. "You're getting ahead of yourself. Firstly, we aren't the only survivors, and secondly, there's a secure area that's a shorter distance away."

He drew in a shocked gasp. "We aren't the only survivors? Did any of my crew... they'd be wearing blue -" she shook her head sadly, pointing to the streets to indicate that the survivors were all people who'd walked in. He shook his head, steadying himself. "Well, where are they? And where's this 'secure area'?"

"I can answer both of those with one word. Subway. They're locked in behind the chain fencing, with tables propped up to block the emergency exit. Two of them had guns, so they're guarding the main door."

He stretched his arms back, looked towards the silver screening. "Are there any zombies in the store yet?" She nodded tersely.

"Everywhere in the aisles, you can hear them moaning. We didn't dare split up and look around, so we all grouped together and locked down. I chose to stay out here in case any more survivor's showed up... which, before you arrived, I was about to give up as a bum case."

He nodded seriously. "So, once we open those fire blocking doors, we could get swarmed by legions of the undead?" She shrugged. "So, what's stopping us? Lets go! Carpe Noctum!"

She held up a hand. "We were actually waiting for one man with one thing... something we didn't know we'd need... something that, without, we'd be doomed to a gory death." She looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "Are you that one man?"

He puffed up, strutted a few steps, then stopped. In an unexpected bass, he boomed out, "That would depend on what type of man you are looking for. Strong? That's me. Smart? Can do. Charming? Indeed." He grinned winningly at her. She peered intensely into his eyes.

"Are you the man... who has..." she paused, looked downwards. Joe hesitated, anticipation coursing his veins. "... who has... the spare keys to Subway? Cuz I kind of lost mine in all the excitement." He fell forward suddenly and dramatically, cursing under his breath. "What? Did I say something wrong?" She asked teasingly.

"Alright, enough fooling around, let's do this!" Joe said, adrenaline rushing through him again. He threw open the bay doors in one sudden movement, lifting his keyring in his free hand. A blood chilling moan sounded from all sides, and as his eyes worked to find the source, his legs began pumping, carrying him towards Subway and safety. Then, as he sprinted around the corner, he collided with a zombie in green khakis. The zombie grunted, pivoted on the spot, saw him, and began growling menacingly. Their eyes locked. The zombie roared with hunger.

---

She watched him rip open the door and start immediately running towards the Subway, which was only thirty meters and a corner away. As he approached that corner, she began to follow him, taking it slower so she could keep an eye out for any of the undead. She turned to the side, stopping in place to check for movement by the registers. Her patience and guarded nature was obviously prudent, she realized with horror, as a loud roar suddenly echoed from where Joseph had been. She spun around, reflexively drawing her .38 and dropping to a knee, before realizing he had already rounded the corner and was out of her line of sight. Then Joseph's scream reached her, a high pitched yell of pain and surprise, and her stomach plummetted.

"He had the keys..." was the only think that she could think, and she seized upon that and began running.


	3. Roll Call

**AN: Sorry for the delay, I had to think about where I wanted to take this story, and find a way to tie it in to the RE world (since this is fanfiction, not upload-random-zombie-fiction). Also, I had to struggle a bit to find a balanced cast of survivors - the obvious choice of a team of S.W.A.Ts had to go, for some reason. :)**

**Also, I had to decide on the fate of my character. On the one hand, the temptation to let him survive for some reason (chance, skill, magic, leet pawning) so I could continue to interact with the story, on the other hand, kill him off early so you would realize, this is a realistic fic, not some superme fic... I hope you're satisfied with how that turned out. wink**

**So, with the long wait, here comes the next horror to visit our soon-to-be-growing cast, in...**

_**Associate Evil**_

"He has the keys!" she muttered to herself. "So get moving!" She drew her handgun and began to sprint towards the corner Joe had just turned. The corner seemed further away now that she looked at it. Was it fading off in the distance? How was that possible? Her mind boggled, then she looked down at her pumping feet, which, she realized, were quite stationary.

"I refuse to freeze up!" she yelled, pounding at her legs angrily. Taking a gasping breath, she took a step forward, then another. Finally, in control of her legs again, she resumed her rapid approach.

As she reached the corner, her intution flickered... she realized something was very wrong, and despite her best intentions, she stopped before rounding the corner. What was wrong with this scene? It came to her as an image.

_Joseph rounded the corner, and shortly thereafter, a loud roar followed by a high pitched scream echoed throughout the store. Joseph had run into a zombie, in his haste to reach safety, and the monster had most likely grabbed him, pulled him to the ground, and began chewing on his flesh. Joseph continued to scream as the zombie noisily munched-_

Why wasn't any noise coming from around the corner? There it was, simple enough. Surely zombies weren't intelligent enough to practice stealth, and if Joseph still had any life in him, he'd be screaming his head off. Even if his throat was bitten, the zombie would still be making noise...

She turned around the corner in a quick twirl, gun raised at approximately head level, eyes darting rapidly around to spot any sudden movements. A body suddenly lurched at her, and she pulled rapidly on the trigger, twice.

"Hey!" Joseph screamed, jumping back and falling on his ass. He slowly leaned forward, looking towards his shoulder. "That second one grazed me. What were you doing, trying to kill me?"

She gaped. Other than his now bleeding shoulder, Joseph was unharmed. She glanced around expectantly, looking for a sign of struggle. All that awaited her gaze was a small pool of blood leading off towards the center of the store. She gestured towards it, speechless.

"I got lucky. I rounded the corner and bumped into one of those things. I fell backwards on my back - hard. But I broke the fall - barely, and sprung back up..." he hesitated, catching his breath. "and suddenly, he cocked his head sideways... I don't mean cocked, more like it flapped limply... and he dashed off."

"I don't believe it. You run into a zombie and it runs away from you?" Joe offered a sheepish grin.

"Maybe my looks didn't appeal to it?" He smiled wearily, then fell back onto his hands. "Jesus, I'm having a rough day already, didn't need that."

She looked back towards the blood, her intuition kicking in again. Something was still wrong. She strained for the mental image again, and briefly saw the blood, only more stretched out, not in tiny drops spread out over a large pool. Something about the blood was wrong...

"Hey, we going to sit here all day..." he sprung up to his feet, his energy apparently returned, "or are we going to get to the safe area? I don't want to press my luck again, if at all possible."

Her attention diverted, she decided the blood wasn't very important after all. She draped his arm over her shoulder, only to have him shrug her off. "I'm not badly hurt, like I said, you just grazed me." He walked off, limping only slightly - from the fall, most likely. After a brief hesitation, she began to follow him, gun still at the ready. He turned suddenly, a smile returning to his face. "At least this time, I'm walking, right?"

She couldn't help but smirk. Then he paused in front of the Subway doors, and glanced down confused at his clenched hand.

"Something wrong?" She asked cautiously. Then she gasped out, "You didn't drop the -"

"No." He said, slowly unclenching his fist. The keys fell to the ground, slick crimson coating them completely. He slowly reclenched his bleeding fist, gasped from the pain. "Could you... unlock the door? My hand doesn't really feel up to it right now."

She gingerly picked up the bloody keys, wiped them gently against her pants. "Well... at least, in the end, you finally got a grip..." He groaned, more from pain than from the pun, and she turned the right key in the lock. "Lets get you inside and see if we can doctor you up."

---

"This is the strangest gathering of doomsday people I've ever met." Joseph said to the security girl. He leaned back against the counter, brushing his bandaged hand briefly over the wood. He held the hand up, inspected it; apparently, napkins, combined with duct tape, made good bandages. His hand was nowhere near as flexible as he would have liked it to have been - supposing he had to hold a gun, for example - but at least it wasn't a deep cut. Clenching those keys that hard... he couldn't believe how badly he must have wanted to save them. Still, in this place, those keys might turn out more important than any meager weapons they had gathered.

"Don't pick at it." A man to Joseph's left said suddenly. Joe grinned sheepishly. "Normally, I'd say you could take the bandage off in one to two days, but with the higher than usual risk of infection, I'd recommend keeping them on until the cut heals completely."

Joe nodded. "Thanks again for patching me up, doctor..." The man gestured to his namebadge, one of many Subway relics Joseph had found in the back storage room.

"Brown. James Brown, MD." Joe cocked an eyebrow. "No, I'm not young, I'm in shape. I may look younger, but I'm actually 36." Joe stiffled a cough - he had actually been about to comment on the luck of having a doctor, not on the doctor's given age...

"Well, Doctor Brown, please update me on the status of the cure." Joe looked solemnly into the doctor's shocked eyes.

"Cure? What cure? I've been here for four hours, the outbreak has been going on for - approximately ten hours, and you already expect me to have somehow, without a decent work environment or any of the usual accoutrements, somehow to have mass produced a working cure?" The doctor threw his hands up into the air, exasperated. "Ridiculous!" He stalked away angrily.

Joe covered a smile. "Got him to go away, though." The girl slapped his injured hand, causing him to gasp with pain.

"Don't forget, he patched your hand up." She said warningly.

"I know, I know, I just... don't like doctors." Joe smiled in his now-familiar sheepish manner. "Anyway, we need to find out what we're working with here, so time for a little Q and A."

"Attention everybody. "Joseph called out. Everyone looked up, saw him, and looked back to whatever they were doing. A scarred, burned, patched up man commanded no attention. So, he decided to switch tactics.

"Oh my fucking God, zombies are in the Subway!" Joseph roared out suddenly. As one, every head jerked up, some reflexively stepping away from him. Then, from the back, a small giggle shot out, a scared reflex noise from the back of the throat. Slowly, it began to spread, with a few people smiling, and one man bursting into guffaws.

"Son, I ain't come that close to shitting my pants in almost five-aught years, back when the war was just another paycheck." The aforementioned man let out between wheezing gasps. Joe didn't know what to say to this, so he just smiled and waited. Finally, the temporary merriment died down. Joseph looked around again; this time, all eyes were on him, waiting. He cleared his throat, and stepped forward a few steps.

"Alright, sorry for that, but now that I've got your attention, we need to discuss some fundamentals here." He paused briefly, gathering himself. "First off, does anyone here have any doubt about what is going on out there?"

Everyone shook their head, as one. From the back, a whispering voice called out, "Zombies. Undead." Joe took a look towards the direction of the voice, marking the young girl who had started the giggling before.

"Exactly. Zombies. Undead. Carnivorous corpses brought back to life." Joe began to discuss the basics of zombies as he knew it. Their perseverance, tolerance for pain, hunger for flesh, known weaknesses...

"Headshot." the whispery voice called out again. "I know, because I play a lot of videogames. That's what you do. Shoot them in the head." Joe nodded approvingly.

"Alright, enough on that. Knowing what a zombie is is one thing, and one we can't cover very well. What if those things out there aren't run-of-the-mill walking undead? We won't know until we are face to face to them. So, for now, avoidance is the key issue when dealing with them. But more importantly than that, we need to discuss survival."

He turned towards the chalkboard menu, wiped it clean with his sleeve, and picked up a piece of pink chalk. "Right now, we are doing rather fine, all things considered. We could all be out there on our own, getting picked off at the same rate, but due to some reason, we're all here, still alive, and capable of forming a suitable team. So what I want you to do is come up here, write your name down, and list whatever skills you might be able to bring to the team. Oh, and if you have anything that couldd be useful, please write that down too."

He lifted the chalk, pausing only to think. Then he wrote down on the board:

_Joseph Games, knows this store very well and has keys to almost every lock in it_

He waited, chalk raised. Finally, the security girl stepped forward and grabbed the chalk from his hand. It was at this point that he realized he had never gotten her name. He watched with interest as she wrote:

_Elizabeth Hunter, security guard w/ weapons training, have a .38 Special with 24 spare bullets_

She glanced down towards her holstered gun, drew it, flicked the barrel open. Frowned. Raised the chalk again, scratched out 24. Wrote 20 above it. Then she hopped back up on the counter.

The old man who had "nearly shit himself" stood up, calmly walked towards the board. In a looping script underneath Elizabeth's, he added:

_Jared Tanner, decorated war veteran / retired farmer. Carrying a Remington 12er, no extra ammo_

Now a line began to form, and for the first time Joseph was able to count how many people were present. Only three more in line, plus the three already on the board... that made six...

_Dr. James Brown, MD, have extensive medical background_

_Alex "Monty" Montgomery, have "extensive medical herbs"_

Joe cocked an eyebrow. "Mr. Montgomery... Monty... what exactly do you mean by _extensive medical herbs?_"

Monty grinned. "Well, if there ain't a government anymore, that means it ain't illegal anymore, and that's all you need to know." He leaned back, a satisfied look on his face. Dr. Brown frowned, while Joseph took a step forward again, an intense look on his face.

"I didn't mean the medical herbs part, I meant the extensive part."

Monty laughed, pointed towards the corner where a black trenchcoat rested. "Just picked up ten pounds of premium hydroponic, cost me $100 an eighter. Shit'd get an elephant high in one puff." He sighed. "Not that it matters much since there ain't any customers to be selling to anymore. You want some, go ahead and grab it before it goes stale."

"I can't condone this." Brown began, glaring at Monty. "Peddling your drugs to what might be the last surviving group... what we need is to keep everyone clear headed, not doped up... and tripping on whatever else you got in that trenchcoat."

Monty raised his hands defensively, backed away. "Hey, man, I only carry premium weed, none of that hard shit. I know how to have a good time without destroying my mind, ya know?"

Joseph stepped in, raising a hand between the two. "Dr. Brown." He began. "We're going to be potentially in some troublesome situations, and I agree with your assessment of how we need to stay mentally acute. But, if anyone get's injured by one of those zombies, we'll need this marijuana." He raised a finger, stalling Dr. Brown's protests. "If we get the chance, I'll let you raid the pharmacy, but I know most of the prescription drugs come in from pharmaceutical outsourcing, and if you want to tell a man who - for example, might be about to have his leg chopped off - to take Advil or Tylenol, you're a very cruel doctor indeed." He paused." I'd say a relative split, 5 to you, 5 to Monty." He raised the other hand, blocking Monty similarly. "5 pounds is more than enough to keep you satisfied. And the rest will be used, literally, for medicinal purposes, unless Dr. Brown can find something similar - like morphene - to sedate anyone who might need it. In which case, you'll get the five back."

He dropped his arms, looked between both men. Finally, they sighed and stalked off to seperate corners.

The young girl had backed away from the scene, looking nervously around the whole time. Now, Joseph gestured her forward, pointing to the chalkboard.

She picked up the chalk, glanced at the board, breathed slowly, and began to write in a slow, meticulous monoscript:

_Ana Groves, no useful skills or equipment_

She smiled weakly towards the ground. "I'm still just a freshman, I can't do anything to help out."

Joseph looked towards the name she had written. Ana Groves... Anna Grands... he suddenly began to remember what had happened so far... blinding white... car crash... missing Anna... girl melting... then chasing... then gunpoint... then khaki zombie... now... a girl who's name richocheted in his head, reminding him that he had to find Anna eventually... or else... or else...

_white_

**AN Part 2: Whoooo, longest chapter so far. Had to resolve the Joseph / zombie encounter, then introduce a cast of 6... for those who lost track, they're Joseph Games (not my real last name), Elizabeth Hunter, James Brown, Alex Montgomery, Ana Groves, and Jared Tanner. All those names just randomly popped into my head as appropriate, so hopefully they'll fit the character roles that develop.**

**So, until next time, reviews would be great. Next chapter they get out of the Subway and begin exploring, and a few secrets are revealed (a few were revealed in this chapter, but you'll never find them, wink).**


	4. Flashback

**AN: Whoa, two updates in the same 24 hour period? And both of them are the longest chapters to date? What, am I on a roll? No, just finally starting to pick up some steam, put some ideas on the table, suchenchance. Please don't mind the typos, this whole thing was typed out over the course of an hour, on a keyboard with sticky keys. Now, last chapter, I promised some secrets would be revealed, and I'm running out of creative things to say in these author notes, so lets just skip all the babble and go right to the fourth overdose of insanity in...**

_**Associate Evil**_

_white_

Everywhere he looked, white. It didn't hurt his eyes like he supposed light would, which meant it wasn't light. But what was white, if not light? Was he dead? Was this all there was to death, a big blur of whiteness?

As Joseph pondered this, reality began to merge into being around him, starting out as clouds of black and expanding into colors, textures, sizes, and shapes. Interesting.

He realized he was standing in an empty board room, black leather chairs organized around a long, central table. A projection screen, currently not in use, awaited at the head of the table, the position of importance. Joseph looked towards the screen expectantly, certain that whatever it had to show was all that mattered in this place. As he stared, it flickered into life, showing an elliptical clear bottle with the word "Life" clearly labeled onto it.

"Mr. Games, I assume your flight was comfortable?" A man asked, causing Joseph to jump. He looked downwards, noting with the casualness of a dreamer that every chair was now filled by several bored looking men in suits. The man furthest towards the projection screen smiled, indicating he was the one speaking. His pitch colored sunglasses gleamed in the bright room.

"I'm not... very sure right now." Joseph offered up, his throat surprisingly raspy. It was true, he had no clue how he had gotten here. A flight?

"Jetlag." The man said, nodding gently. "I take it you've never flown by helicopter before. No matter, I see you brought the necessary paperwork." Joseph looked down, startled, and realized he was holding a plain brown briefcase. "Very good, I'm sure Gerald informed you of what we hope to accomplish here?"

Joe cocked his head to the side, straining to remember who Gerald was. "Your boss, Mr. Games. He sent you here to negotiate a carrying agreement, in lieu of himself." Joseph nodded, recalling the elderly man he had only met on a few occasions.

The man pulled out a pen, leaned forward expectantly. "Now, I expect you've been briefed on what my company produces, correct?" Joe nodded his head, hating this feeling of confusion. Smiling slightly, the man continued. "Just to refresh you, then. My company - Umbrella Corp. - researches and produces biological applications for medicinal purposes. Most of what we produce is top secret for obvious reasons, but our latest product -" he gestured to the projection screen, "- is now ready to begin its distribution stage. We've cleared with the SS, FDA, CWI, and every other institute that wanted to try and hold this product back. And they all found the same thing. No noticable side effects, and it actually rejuvinates the body and _rolls back time._ With this product, a forty year old woman can look thirty again. A thirty year ol woman, twenty five. With no major side effects."

Joe nodded, impressed despite his confusion. "And I come into this..."

"Because, Mr. Games, our public relations is at an all time low. Ever since that biologist went and got herself killed in Arklay woods, rumors have been spreading that Umbrella Corp. is in the business of producing monsters." The man chuckled. "We could release Life to a few limited top pharmacies in the nation, and make an easy thousand per drop. People would be willing to pay that much for our water of youth."

"But, Mr. Games, we realize the need for distribution, word of mouth, and affordability. It costs our company approximately ten thousand to produce a liter of Life. My company is willing to take losses for the first six months, roughly, and retail Life for $10 per mL." He held up a small, thin bottle, similar to the one on screen. "A milliliter is enough Life to last a person a week, if used according to the proper dosage. But if we sell it for $10, surely pharmaceutical companies will reap the profit and continue to sell it to loyal consumers for several times more than that. Umbrella will be losing money, the medical community will be making even more money that it doesn't deserve, and the community as a whole will not have reasonable access to Life."

The man paused to catch his breath. "What we needed, therefore, was a company with a reputation for bottom line prices, capable of distributing on a large scale, that our target market was familiar with, that they already trusted." He looked Joseph in the eyes, his sunglasses reflecting Joseph's startled gaze. "Mr. Games, what we're offering is an exclusive retail deal to Wal-Mart and it's subsidaries, at a fraction of the cost, for a minimum of six months."

Joseph leaned forward against the table, thinking. "Why was I sent to take care of this? Decisions of this level should be handled by the stockholders, by the CEOs, at the very least, by the home office."

"Gerald thought highly of your opinion, and managed to get the home office to agree to send you out in his place, due to his recent operation. All we need you to do, Mr. Games, is sign your agreement to the price, terms of distribution, and our lawyers will take care of the rest." He held out the pen he had drawn, which Joseph slowly took.

He paused, looked down. "What... can you tell me about the Arklay rumors? As far as I heard, the biologist was found ripped to shreds within the boundaries of the Umbrella labs. Zoologists were unable to confirm a dental match to any of the local fauna, and..."

The man interrupted with a hearty laugh. "And slowly reports began to leak out that the tooth marks were certainly humans." He paused solemnly. "Mr. Games, I assure you that Umbrella is not in the business of building cannibals." He gestured to the screen. "We aim to bring life, not murder. The Arklay incident... not even our own team know's what happened down there, but I can assure you that our company, and our products, had nothing to do with it."

Joseph hesitated, then clicked the pen, leaned forward, and signed.

"And here. Here too. And lastly, the public nondisclosure clause. You can't discuss this with anyone in the media until three weeks before it hits the shelves."

"And that takes care of all that." The man smiled. Slowly he reached up, removed his sunglasses, and began to wipe them off with a handkerchief. Joseph noticed he kept his eyes squinted shut the whole time - light sensitivity? Then the man put them back on, and smirked.

"Without any further ado, we'd like to remind you that we've rented you a pleasant suite in the Raccoon Vista, if you'd like to catch up on your sleep before heading back. Also, we'll have a helicopter standing by for the next forty-eight hours, if you feel the urge to remain in town before returning home." Joseph wondered why there was so much fuss over a eighty mile drive, and professed as much.

"We take care of our own here at Umbrella, Mr. Games. And you're now an honorary member, so to speak. We sincerely appreciate what you've made possible for both our companies." The man reached out his hand. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Games."

Joseph stuck out his hand, paused, his head cocked sideways. "I'm not sure I caught your name." The man's face tightened up, and for a second Joe was able to see the bright red reflection of the sun in his glasses.

"Wesker. Albert Wesker, Head of Liasons for Umbrella Corporation." Joe nodded, turned around to leave the board room.

_white_

"Arrrrrgh, fuck!" Joseph yelled out, jumping up suddenly. He felt breasts crushed against his right arm, before the body they were attached to fell backwards from his sudden motion.

"What the hell, Joseph!" the limp form cried out, standing up. Joseph cocked his head sideways, trying to make out the form. Slowly, the angry face came into focus, belonging to one Elizabeth Hunter. She held up a bottle of whiskey, more than half of which was gone. "You made me spill most of it!"

Joseph groaned, leaned forward. "I didn't know you were a drinking woman." She grabbed his collar, dragged him upwards, causing a burning sensation to spread along his arm.

"For your information, this bottle belongs to Mr. Tanner, and I was using it to sterilize your shoulder." She glanced at the shoulder, grimaced. "And now you've gone and ripped the stiches Dr. Brown put in."

Joe looked around, confused. "Stitches? How long have I been out? And where is everyone?"

"You've been comatose for almost six hours. As for the others... Dr. Brown decided to lead them on an expedition to get medicine from the pharmacy." She gestured towards a map Joseph had never noticed before. "According to this, the pharmacy is only four aisles away from here. They left about fifteen minutes ago, so they should be back any time now."

Joseph stared hard at the map, gulped. "This is not good." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "This map isn't accurate at all, it must be left over from the last store remodel. Pharmacy is over here now." He pressed a finger down on a small square on the other side of the map. "And this..." he pointed to the pharmacy as shown on the map, "happens to be the Site-to-Store delivery area."

"So, there might be medication not yet unloaded, or something." He shook his head, pointed to the map, at a small line in the left wall of the old pharmacy.

"See that crease? That's the original reason that was a pharmacy, and why it became STS." He looked at her expectantly. "Bay doors. Which, since the remodel, haven't been closable for some reason. We've had to station door greeters there in the past to keep people from walking in through them, stealing products off the shelf, and walking right back out. We were supposed to have a repairman in next month to fix them, but..." he shook his head. "Right now, there's a permanently open door in this Wal-Mart, and our clever doctor just lead our entire survivor's group to it."

He spat towards the ground, angrily. "See, this is why I fucking hate doctors."


	5. Third Encounter

**It's that time... when excessive bleeding, moaning, and general pissy moods are rampant, where one wrong word can get a person killed, one mistaken glance can get their face clawed off... a time when you should just avoid everyone you know, just to be safe...**

**The zombies are here.**

_**Associate Evil**_

They dashed through the aisles - a striking pair, with him huffing, out of breath; and her sleek, graceful, executing artful turns down every corner, gun raised. The monstrosity lurked unseen on the underside of the roof, tongue lolling in a long coil, ribbons of corrosive blood falling in long arcs onto the floor. Where the acid landed, acrid waves of smoke billowed out from the tile as it dissolved almost immediately.

He gestured to one such tile, slid to a stop. She saw another tile hiss, immediately tracked the trajectory of the acid splash, aimed her gun high, fired three times. The third shot clicked on an empty chamber.

"I thought you reloaded before we left!" Joe cried out, ducking down another aisle to avoid the tongued beast as it slammed to the ground. It reared its head, clawed out randomly, causing Elizabeth to roll quickly towards him.

"You said we had to hurry and get to the other survivors as a first priority!" She shot back, dropping the casings with a flick, and reaching into her pocket. She fumbled six more rounds into her gun, clicked it shut, and dove out of the aisle again.

"I'll let you know now, then." Joseph yelled. "Any time we go out into a zombie invested area, always reload your weapon first! Common fucking sense!" Joseph sighed, slouched back. He was useless right now. He had no weapon, was heavily bandaged. So he devoted his attention to other things to keep his mind off the fact that a gunfight with some sort of mutant was occuring a few feet away from him.

"What the hell!" Joseph cried out suddenly. Elizabeth cast her glance from the beast in front of her, looking towards the aisle Joe was on. The monster chose that exact time to rear back and flick its tongue at her, a move she hadn't been expecting. She barely flattened herself on the ground in time to avoid its impaling thrust.

"What happened, Joe?" She yelled as she rolled back into a firing position. She shot three more times, saw two of them embed themselves in the creature's skull. It still advanced.

"I didn't authorize this sale on screwdriver sets! Two for seven - that's ridiculously below market value!"

It licked again. She tumbled, felt the brush of the tongue as it rushed past her hair.

"Joseph, I've got some perverted monster out here trying to lick me to death, and all you can worry about is a fucking screwdriver?" She stood, aimed, fired off three more shots. Her hand must have been shaking; only one hit, in what might have been the monster's shoulder.

"Damn six shooters, I'm out of ammo again!" She gulped, backed into the aisle behind her. A glance confirmed that she wasn't going to be able to vault over it and reload safely on the other side. The beast seemed to sense cornered prey. It began to slowly advance to her, making quick moves to counter every feint she made. The beast reared back, it's tongue hanging grotesquely from its mouth, and roared. Elizabeth shut her eyes and screamed.

Slick. An interesting sound. Elizabeth risked opening her eyes again; noted that the licking monster was lying on the ground, blood pooling out from both its ears. Dead. She looked up again, realized that Joseph was holding a slimy, lumpy, excessively bloody rod. He leaned over, wiped it against the licker, then held it up again for her inspection.

"Screwdrivers - they don't need reloading." He said with a smirk. He flipped the screwdriver in his hand a few times, finally stopping with a grip on the blade of it.

"Ow, Jesus fuck!" Joseph cried out, throwing the screwdriver to the ground angrily.

"Did you cut yourself?" Elizabeth asked. In answer, a plume of acrid smoke shot up suddenly from his bandaged hand, the one he had used to catch the screwdriver. He hastily shed the bandages, inspected his fingers for any burns or lesions.

"Thank God I was wearing bandages on that hand." He said finally. Then he kicked the ground suddenly, madly, nearly slipping in the licker's blood. "Why the hell does this shit keep happening to me?"

As if he deserved a cosmic answer, another licker chose that exact moment to land on his back, pinning him to the ground.

**A/N: I go from two long chapters in a day to one short chapter in a month... sorry about that.**

**You may have noticed that the creature goes through several changes in naming - creature, mutant, monster, beast, licking thing, etc. But only twice is it named as it is. Licker. We all know what they are, we've all played RE, but our characters, being situated in a fiction taking place in RE, haven't ever heard the term. So, I had them come to it themselves. After the (hopefully spontaneous sounding) "lick me to death" comment, they started calling it a licking monster, licker, etc. Soon, it'll make the necessary progression to capital L, the Licker.**

**Quite possibly the best monster in any video game, ever. :)**

**And how the hell are the Hunter's going to get named, if I keep this scheme up? "Oh, hey look Elizabeth, ugly monsters on the prowl. We should name them after you. SLAP"**

**(For those who don't get it, Elizabeth Hunter is her name.)**

**As always, thank you for reading, and if you like providing feedback, please review. :)**

**Everything except my survivor group and Wal-Mart are (c) those Resident Evil people. You know who they are. And Wal-Mart is (c) Satanic Industries.**

**I'm done wasting your time.**

**Seriously.**

**Get out of here.**

**Go review, or something.**

**Still here?**

**Okay, fine, I guess it's...**

**OMAKE TIME!**

**Got your hopes up, didn't I?**

**I'm a cruel bastard.**

**:) Please don't review harshly for this.**

**Until next time!**


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